


114. police sirens

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [195]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: “I’m leaving soon,” Sarah says. “I’m getting out of here."





	

**Author's Note:**

> [warning: reference to abuse]
> 
> So it turns out that this was embarrassing amounts of inspired by [rusty getaway cars](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4658224/1/rusty-getaway-cars), which I didn't realize until I finished the fic. Oops! Apologies to the author, I haven't read that fic in years but apparently my subconscious has not let it go this entire time.

The other girl is already on the fire escape by the time Sarah gets out there; there’s a candy cigarette dangling off her lower lip, and she’s crunching it contemplatively as she stares with great intent at nothing in particular. Sarah takes the squealing steps down a floor, settles in next to her. The girl holds out a tiny carton of candy cigarettes. The packet has Spider-Man printed on it in ink that’s bleeding. There is one cigarette left. Sarah takes it. When she puts it on her tongue, it tastes like nothing but sugar and empty space.

“I’m leaving soon,” she says. “I’m getting out of here. I’m just gonna run, when he’s asleep.”

“Mm,” says the other girl. Sarah doesn’t know her name. They don’t really do names. They just sit out here and wait for the light-polluted sunset to finally give up and sputter into nighttime.

“You don’t believe me,” she says, too flatly to be a question.

“I believe,” says the girl. _Crunch_ goes the cigarette between her teeth. She flicks the box off the fire escape, and it falls into the alley between their shitty apartment building and the next shitty apartment building. Sarah hates this part of town; she wants to live somewhere that isn’t always aching with the sound of sirens.

“Say something, then,” Sarah says. “Congratulations. Sorry. I dunno.”

“Congratulations,” echoes the girl, voice rasping with the edge of her accent. Russian? Ukrainian? Sarah can’t place it. When there’s yelling from this floor it’s always in a language that isn’t English.

“Thanks,” Sarah says.

“Also,” says the girl, “sorry.” She smirks, just at the corner of her mouth. The cigarette vanishes. Sarah’s is still in her mouth; she sucks on it, filing the edge to a sharp point. Like you could do any sort of damage with it. Like it wouldn’t just break.

She pulls it out of her mouth. It _looks_ sharp. It looks like it should hurt. It doesn’t hurt. She puts the cigarette back in her mouth.

Next to her, the other girl rummages in the pockets of her enormous green coat and procures another box of candy cigarettes. This one has a cartoon cat on it, from a show Sarah has never seen. For some reason the fact that she can’t place the shitty cartoon cat makes her desperately sad.

“Maybe I will also leave,” says the girl, snapping a cigarette in half and shoving half into her mouth. It crunches a few times, and then she swallows. Gone. “Leave here. Leave this bad stinking city. Marry a nice boy and make crafts with children.”

“Bet you could,” Sarah says.

Silence. Sarah’s words sound feeble, paper-thin, useless. She pulls the cigarette out, checks it again; still sharp, still useless.

“You take such a long time,” says the girl. “Just chew it.”

“I like it,” Sarah says. “I’m fine.” It’s vanishing, bit by bit, on her tongue. She could bite down and it would all be over. Then again, she could do all sorts of things. She could keep climbing down the fire escape until she reached the ground. She could walk back into her apartment and pick up an ashtray. She could do anything, anything.

Gentle fingers brush against the skin of her arm, and she jumps; her spine rattles. When she looks over her companion is watching her with something between amusement and guilt.

“Say goodbye,” she says, “before you go. So I can eat all of my candy, and not save it for you.”

“Or ‘cause you’d miss me,” Sarah says, grinning with strained bravado.

“Or that,” says the girl. She looks sad, for a moment, but then it’s gone.

“Yeah,” Sarah says. “Fine. I’ll come by on my way out of this stupid bloody building.”

The other girl nods, goes back to watching the sunset bleed out. Sarah watches with her. The cigarette keeps melting, slowly, between her teeth; it vanishes bit by bit. Next to her the girl keeps feeding cigarettes into her mouth, crunching them and swallowing them and putting another cigarette in. _What is it like to be that hungry_ , Sarah could ask her, but she doesn’t. She just sits there. They both sit there, and they wait for the sun to go out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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